


Just like those Hallmark Movies

by suisseconfiture



Category: Tennis RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe, Christmas, Hallmark Movies, Kind of Angst??, M/M, but not really??
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-02
Updated: 2018-12-02
Packaged: 2019-09-05 22:22:41
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,430
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16819615
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/suisseconfiture/pseuds/suisseconfiture
Summary: Stefanos hates his daytime job, Sascha lives partially to pester him and with a little Christmas spirit, Stefanos receives a present he can't refuse.





	Just like those Hallmark Movies

**Author's Note:**

> i hope you enjoy this ( shite ) story, i had fun writing it and i hope you have fun reading it! xx

"Stef, get these boxes out of here!" Philipp howled from the back room as he had been doing all morning. "How many times do I have to tell you?!"

Stefanos honestly wasn't in the mood but he didn't have any choice, so he bit his tongue and walked to the back to move the boxes. He didn't look at his boss, not wanting any kind of confrontation; mostly because he was too exhausted to even bother. 

Philipp waited, standing in place with arms folded over his chest as he watched. The sight could have been seen as a bit silly. Philipp being 5'10 and well over 30, while Stefanos was 6'4 and had only just turned twenty a few months previous. Yet there he was, bossing him around like he was an incompetent child. 

Stefanos knew, even if it were extremely egotistic, that he was smarter than him, but he wasn't the boss. He didn't have the power. When he'd gone to Germany for work, he didn't exactly expect to be working in a shop like that and a piece of him thought about quitting every day. Having worked there for almost six months caused him to take up smoking. Every second he could be out of the building was worth killing his lungs. 

So, he took his smoke break after he moved the boxes, even though Philipp yelled at him for that too. He didn't care anymore. 

Stefanos pulled his coat on, wrapped his scarf around his neck and stepped outside into the snow. He made a point of walking at least seven yards away before crouching against a wall, taking out a cigarette and his lighter. Touching the flame to the end, a line of smoke drew into the cold air as he took a long drag. His hands were shaking, both out of anxiousness and from how frigid it was. On that particular day, he'd forgotten his gloves.

The snow had been getting heavier and heavier as the week dragged, and the news, at least from what he could understand, predicted a snowstorm during the next two weeks. It certainly felt freezing outside, which Stefanos wasn't used to at all. 

Whenever he went out for a smoke, he did a lot of thinking. Sometimes calling his family, talking to his much younger siblings. He had a chronic lack of friends, as he was always more comfortable with his family. 

Working in customer service wasn't his first choice, but it was the one that a woman at the jobcentre made for him. Every day, he had to remind himself that by summertime, he'd be back home. That he'd never have to go anywhere else. At that moment, though, it was a favour to his parents. 

The extra money would be much more helpful than another mouth to feed back in Greece. 

So, he sucked it up. Stefanos breathed in as much smoke as he could to drag his break out for at least another minute. He had to keep checking his phone for the time, lest Philipp come out and scream at him once again. When the clock struck 7:35, he quickly took another long puff and burnt it out against the pavement before walking back to the shop. 

Stefanos walked directly past his boss, putting his coat and scarf back in the break room before coming out to straighten up the cosmetics aisle. 

They would be opening it twenty-five minutes and, just his luck, he'd be working the register despite his primary school level German. At least most of the customers knew English, so he wasn't up a river without a paddle. Most of the time, that is. 

He could hear Philipp complaining about him from the cosmetics aisle, commenting on how he smells like smoke and had a foul attitude at all hours of the day. Everyone knew that he wanted to fire Stefanos, but he couldn't authorise termination without the owners of the shop's unanimous approval. The owners both lived in Switzerland and only came to check on the store every four months. Stefanos had met Stan and Roger and found them to be quite nice, especially Roger who gave him fifty euro for groceries and drove him home that night. 

Then, the voices of people filled his ears as the store opened without warning. He finished straightening up the shelves before walking to his register, putting on his fake smile and faux happy attitude. 

Anything to please the customers. 

__

Sascha sat at the breakfast table with his brother and mother sat across from him. She'd made porridge and toast that morning, so he enjoyed that in their company. Christmas was three days away and he had a lot of catching up to do when it came to shopping. 

"Sascha," Irina's voice cut through the silence like a hot knife through butter. "Can you run to the shop and get a few things for me?"

The youngest person at the table paused as he took a moment to swallow his food, nodding. 

"Sure, yeah, could you write a list?" 

"Mischa, dear, could you write the list for me. I have to take Lövik to the groomers." Irina asked, looking over at Mischa, who was looking at his phone until he heard his name.

"Uh, yeah. I'll just text it to you." Mischa spoke around his food, pointing down at his phone. 

Sascha nodded and finished his meal, drinking down his coffee and standing up. Irina waved at him, knowing he would be leaving, and he waved back as he walked to the front door. He put on his coat, draping his scarf around his neck and slipping on his gloves. Fetching the car keys, he set off on his journey to acquire everything that would be on the list.

Generally, the Zverevs' stuck with one store, Federer & Wawrinka. That was exactly where Sascha went on his errands, and today would be no exception. 

The drive was short, only ten minutes, and he parked in less than one. He stepped out of his car and into the bitter air, much more bitter than he ever recalled in Hamburg. Though, he wasn't a reliable source considering he spent a lot of his life in Florida. A piece of him always loved the heat, but the snow in Germany reminded him of Christmas as a kid. 

Thus, the journey began. Sascha walked past the snow and slightly slick pavement, being greeted by the warm air of the store interior. 

The walls were decorated from floor to ceiling in all sorts of festive decorations, typical around that time of year. A little tweet came from his phone, signalling that Mischa sent him the list. He pulled his phone from his coat pocket to read the list.

Shampoo, gingerbread cookies, raspberry jam, detergent, chocolates and milk. Mentally, he added sour cream to that list, as the container of it in the fridge was running low. 

Sascha grabbed a shopping cart and started walking up and down the aisles to find his goods, picking up a few extra things along the way. He knew where everything was, as he was there almost twice a week. Except one thing wasn't where it should've been today. The shampoo had been replaced with...

Foundation. Concealer. Eyeshadow.

Someone had put the cosmetics in place of the hair products and, for a split second, Sascha almost felt offended that someone messed it up. He'd have to get to the bottom of this, because it simply wasn't okay. 

First, he finished his shopping and made his way to the register. The man was very obviously zoned out, staring off into space as he stood behind the counter. His face was obscured by his hair as he stared at his hands, until Sascha spoke and he instantly recognised him. So did the man.

"Oh god." Stefanos groaned, not bothering to cover up the fact he couldn't stand the sight of him. 

"Long time no see, Tsitsipas." Sascha teased, a playful smirk on his face. He retrieved the items from the cart and took a moment to get a closer look at the cashier. It had been nearly three weeks or so since he'd seen him, but he looked an awful lot thinner and pale in the face compared to last time. His eyes, they were the worst part. 

They looked empty, tired, as if all the life had been sucked right out of them. As silly as it sounded, they used to be such a lively and warm chestnut brown. It seemed so long ago that they looked like that as he fixed his gaze on them for a number of seconds.

"Are you, uh," Sascha stammered somewhat, raising an eyebrow as he leaned over to get a closer look. "You feeling alright?" 

Stefanos only glanced up briefly, wanting to get it over quickly. So he faked another smile, but even he couldn't mimic his own look of genuine happiness. 

"Never better." He lied outright, finishing the scanning process before looking at the man across the counter. "Thirty-fifty." 

Sascha took his wallet out and went through it briefly, before pulling out his debit card and holding it out. Stefanos, noticeably, hesitated but grabbed it, his hands still shaking as they had been earlier. Even though he saw, Sascha didn't mention it. 

"So who put the makeup away?" He asked as he didn't want to forget, tilting his head a bit as he watched Stefanos slide it. 

"I did." The Greek replied dully, handing his card back as he entered his PIN number. 

"Well, you didn't do it right." Sascha informed the other as he put the card into his wallet, hearing a soft beep to signify that the transaction had been completed. All he got was a small hum of acknowledgement. 

Stefanos bagged his items and handed them back over. 

"Thanks for shopping at F and W's, I hope you have a wonderful day and a Happy Christmas." 

That phrase was perfectly recited, with a saccharine grin to match how artificial it was. Sascha smiled back, but lingered for a second as if he wanted to say something. 

He didn't. 

__

Eventually, Stefanos was taken off the register and took his lunch break. He'd been feeling unwell for the previous two days, but it seemed to only get worse. Thinking it was a winter cold or just something mundane, he picked up Lemsip and some painkillers. 

He took the ibuprofen, along with his Prozac, and got a cup of tea. All while hoping that it would go away because it was starting to affect his thought process. 

Only four more hours. 

_Only four more hours._

__

If it was only four more hours, why did it feel like eight? Every time he looked at the clock, hardly fifteen minutes passed. Stefanos was going to go insane, but at least he'd be going insane not at a register. All he had to do was stock shelves, but even that was getting a bit difficult. 

He was putting candles away and nearly dropped half of them, finding it difficult to keep a grip on them and find his balance. For a moment, he had to crouch and take in a few steady breaths. Feeling so faint was not helping in the slightest, and he had another hour and a half left before he could leave. Stefanos considered going to Philipp and asking if he could leave early, but that would be a death wish in itself, so he didn't bother. 

Another Prozac, another painkiller, and he went about his work, trying to ignore whatever was ailing him. 

__

Then, finally, the clock read salvation. He got his coat and scarf on and took himself outside, beginning his walk to his apartment. This time, it didn't feel cold. His face was hot and flushed, but occasional chills shot through him without warning.

Whatever was wrong was getting worse, noticeably so. Stefanos, however, was extremely scared of doctors and hospitals; so there was no way to get him to go. 

The walk seemed to last for an hour, yet it only took ten minutes. When he finally arrived home, he immediately changed into the first comfortable clothes he could find and got into bed. 

Falling asleep was easier than staying awake at that point, so that's exactly what he did. 

__

Whatever light was shining, it was too bright. Stefanos opened his eyes, albeit reluctantly, and scorned the sun that had awoken him. He felt slightly better, but not by much.

Taking a quick glance at the clock. which read 9:24, didn't do much at first. 

Until he remembered that he was the only person scheduled to work that morning, and he was late. Extremely late. 

Stefanos nearly fell out of his bed and he ran to his closet, getting whatever he could find on and basically tearing a hairbrush through his hair. When he looked mildly presentable, he got on his coat and ran out of the door. 

He didn't even lock it. 

A ten-minute walk had five minutes shaved off of it with how quickly he ran, fumbling for the keys once he made it to the storefront. Someone must've left the heating on overnight because the interior of the shop was like an oven. 

That day was for stocking and straightening everything up, since they were always closed on Sunday mornings. He stopped halfway between the break room and the kitchenware to catch his breath, but it turned into a chesty coughing fit. 

Somehow, he was feeling worse than the day before, now. 

Unknown to him, it was about to get a bit worse. 

Sascha was walking by the shop, having been out at the groomers getting Lövik. He peeked into the shop and noticed that no one was in there, but all the lights were on. Then, something that sounded like yelling came from inside. 

He furrowed his brows in confusion, trying to get a better look by walking closer to the door. Lövik pulled a bit on his leash, pawing at the door as if he wanted to go in. Sascha wanted to as well, and luckily for him, the door was unlocked. 

Gently, Sascha pushed the door open and quietly walked inside. Whatever yelling from earlier had disappeared, being replaced by the sound of--

The sound of crying.

It smelled of cigarettes inside and it only became more potent as he walked to the kitchenware aisle. That was where he found the same figure from the day before, sitting on the ground in front of broken glass, smoking a cigarette with his face hidden in his knees. 

Sascha hesitated to get closer, but Lövik didn't. He tugged on the leash hard enough to pull it from the man's grip, running over to the crying form and starting to lick his hand. 

Stefanos sniffled, pulling his face away from his knees to look at the little, curly haired dog that seemed to have taken a liking to him. Briefly, a smile graced his features as he pet his head. 

"How did you get in, huh?" He inquired, voice rough and raspy and ending with a harsh cough. Lövik continued the action, trying to crawl into his lap somehow. Despite the cute dog, the man paused as tears started to flow again, quickly pulling in the cigarette for another drag.

"Stefanos," Sascha started, taking a few steps closer as he crouched not but two feet away. "Are you alright?" 

Surprisingly, Stefanos laughed. He laughed at the question, looking over at him as he drew the cigarette away, almost dramatically shrugging his shoulders.

"So we're on first name terms now?" Stefanos seemed to mock him a bit, shaking his head before looking over at him. "Can't you tell?" 

Sascha frowned as he shifted a little closer, ending up directly beside him. 

"Well," He started, biting on his lower lip for a moment in thought. "Not really. You can tell me, though." 

The room went dead for an entire minute, the Greek burning his cigarette out on the bottom of his shoe as he wiped his face. Turning to face the German, he smiled, but not happily. 

"Honestly? My whole life is a big fucking joke." Stefanos explained as he threw his hands up in what seemed like defeat. "My parents don't want me moving back, my job is shit, my landlord called and told me my house got robbed and all the presents for my family are gone." 

He turned his head up to look at the ceiling, shaking his head as he, once again, looked at Sascha.

"Even better, I'm spending my favourite holiday by myself and I'm so sick that I can't even think straight." 

Stefanos felt a bit better venting it out to someone, swallowing back any other complaints he might have had to look down at the broken glass on the floor. Another series of coughs came out, only distressing him more as he covered his face; as if he were going start sobbing once again.

"I'll be honest, I can't fix most of what's going on," Sascha responded, nudging him gently with his elbow. "But I can try and help if you want." 

"And do what? Tell me everything is going to be fucking alright?" Stefanos retorted far more harshly than originally intended. "If that's your _help,_ then you're a fucking idiot."

"You tell me what you bought and I'll replace it. I could try and find you a better job, and if you wanted, I could invite you to spend Christmas with my family." 

Another minute of silence as the Greek's eyes seemed to go a bit blank. 

"...You-" Stefanos stammered, almost in confusion as the once lively brown eyes regained some sort of light. "Why would you do that, I- I don't even really know you." 

"It's Christmas, it brings out uncharacteristic kindness in most people." Sascha chuckled lightly as a comforting smile appeared on his lips. "Don't you watch those cheesy Hallmark movies?"

Even Stefanos let out a short laugh, but it was rough, briefly having to pause and catch his breath. 

"Yeah, I like them a lot." He confessed with a small smile, using the sleeve of his shirt to wipe his face. 

"Then come on, let's get this out of the way and I can drive you to my house. Okay?" Sascha offered his hand, still smiling gently. 

Stefanos accepted it and only then did Sascha notice the cut on the other's palm, assuming it was from trying to pick up the shattered glass from the floor. He made a mental note of it.

They both stood up and Lövik sat between the two of them, Sascha picking up the glass with his gloved hand. It only took a moment and he waited at the front door for Stefanos to come back from retrieving his coat from the breakroom. 

When he arrived, he, unexpectedly, gave Sascha a hug. It was a loose one, but it was something he would never usually do; considering how reticent and aloof he was most of the time. 

He returned the gesture with a few pats on the back before pulling away, Lövik's leash in hand. 

Sascha texted his mother that he would be bringing someone to stay for the holidays, and had to explain to her that is wasn't a girl. She didn't realise that the 'friend' part was the whole thing. 

In a way, Stefanos _was_ a friend. A new friend. 

__

"Oh dear, how have you managed this long without a doctor?" Irina asked her new temporary guest, staring at the thermometer in hand that read 38.6 degrees Celcius. "You've got a proper fever, dear."

"I- uh..." Stefanos tried to think of a response, but pursed his lips and shrugged. "I don't like doctors so..." 

" Well I must say, you've come to the right house!" She laughed a bit as he set the thermometer down, standing up straight. "You rest a bit and I'll make some soup for you. Do you like borscht?"

Stefanos smiled a bit just imagining the Russian dish, nodding slowly. Irina smiled back, patting his shoulder. 

"Rest easy, I'll wake you up for dinner." The woman spoke softly before leaving the room. 

Without thinking, he raised his voice enough to project a 'thank you' her way. It was surprising how generous they were to someone they'd just met an hour before. 

The whole house was decorated thoroughly for the holidays, and the room he got was bigger than his bedroom at the apartment. He sat at the end of the bed, drumming his fingertips on the duvet as his mind wandered. Irina was probably right, he should get some sleep. 

Thank god for his mother teaching him Russian, or he'd be even more lost if he had to speak German. 

__

Sascha stood at the kitchen counter, peeling and slicing beets and carrots as his mother hummed to the Christmas music on the radio. 

"So," Irina began, not looking up from her pan of chicken and sautéed mushrooms and sugar snap peas. "Your friend is a very nice boy." 

"I guess he's okay." Sascha joked, taking a bite of a carrot that he no longer needed. 

"He's very handsome, too. Where's he from?" She asked as she took the pan away from the stove top and placed it on the side to cool down. 

"Greece." 

Sascha disregarded the first part, just deciding to answer her potentially endless stream of questions. 

"I think he's shorter than you, though." She continued, taking the beets and carrot that had been tossed in a bowl and bringing out a pot. "I wonder what on earth is being put in your generation's food to make all of you so tall." 

"Human Growth Hormone I guess." 

"Or perhaps all of you just drank a lot of milk." 

"Maybe we just got all the good genes, you never know." Sascha smiled as he splashed a bit of white vinegar in the vegetables, his mother bringing the pot to a boil. 

"Well, your generation is certainly handsome. You, that boy upstairs, most of your friends. You're a lucky lot." 

"His name is Stefanos, you keep forgetting." He reminded her, giving her a bit of a nudge as he walked away. "Just yell if you need help." 

Irina laughed as he walked away, shaking her head a bit. 

__

Sascha ascended the stairs into the quiet of the upstairs, making a right and going down the hallway. He paused outside of one of the rooms and taking a step closer. It was completely silent inside. 

That was the guest room, but it didn't sound like there was even a guest occupying it. Sascha lingered there for a bit, finally wrapping his hand around the doorknob and slowly opening it. 

He just took a quick look and only saw a sleeping form, Stefanos's sleeping form that is. The room was dim so he couldn't make out much, but he looked so peaceful. 

It was almost a relief to see him like that, not pestered by his fever or painful coughs. 

Taking a longer look at his face made him think that his mother was right.

He was very handsome, so much so that he compared him to a male Aphrodite; being that he was Greek. 

After he was done seemingly admiring him, he closed the door and walked to his own room to process his own thoughts. It only then occurred to him that it was a bit creepy to peer into someone else's room without permission.

Sascha laughed at himself for not realising that before he did so, finding himself incredibly stupid to have done so. Both stupid and a tad bit creepy. 

__

Irina made the call that dinner was ready, but Stefanos was still asleep. They decided to let him sleep for a little while longer and eat dinner together, since Irina, Alexander Sr and Mischa were going out to a play that Sascha wasn't interested in. 

He opted to stay home and watch some films he actually enjoyed. 

When the first movie ended, Sascha decided to walk to the kitchen and make a festive cup of hot chocolate. He warmed up milk in the microwave and put in the chocolate powder, stirring it and reaching for a few marshmallows in the cupboard to top it off. 

Originally, he was going to use whipped cream but it turns out they didn't have any. Marshmallows would just have to do. 

Once his holiday beverage was complete, he turned around and began his walk back to the living room. On the way, Sascha caught a glimpse of Stefanos walking down the stairs. 

Shirtless. 

The German paused, eyes widened an unnoticeable amount, watching his shockingly graceful descent. 

Stefanos noticed Sascha and gave him a slight wave, rubbing his slightly red and bleary eyes. 

"Hey," He flashed a brief smile, stretching his arms into the air as he seemed to have just woken up. 

"Hi," Sascha slowly spoke as he was somewhat distracted by the physique of the other person. When he said male Aphrodite, he wasn't bluffing. "Your soup is in the fridge if you're hungry." 

Stefanos's face lit up a bit when he heard those words, practically flying over to the fridge and taking out the familiar red soup that was in a small tupperware dish. 

"You're probably going to need some clothes to change into, right?" Sascha asked, really hoping that the answer would be a yes so he wouldn't have to keep being distracted by his sickeningly perfect form. 

"Oh, yeah," Stefanos let out a bit of a nervous laugh, a slight colouring of red that hadn't been there before flowering on his face. "I do. Sorry, I just didn't think about it. Could I-"

"A shirt?"

"Yeah, yeah, a shirt." 

Sascha didn't even hesitate a moment. He set his mug on the kitchen island before disappearing into the laundry room, returning minutes later to hand a Roland-Garros t-shirt to him. 

As he exchanged it, his hand brushed against the Greek's and he instinctively jerked it away. The action startled Stefanos a bit, looking at him as if he were crazy. 

Surprisingly, however, he let it go and just put the shirt on. It was a little bit baggy, since he was slightly shorter and thinner. 

Stefanos took a glance at the shirt, then looked back over at Sascha with a smile. "You like tennis?" 

Sascha turned his gaze back to the other's, simply nodding his head as he picked up his mug once again. 

"You know," Stefanos started, opening the top of the container and searching for a bowl as he spoke, "I was there in 2009." 

"Really?" He sounded quite surprised when he asked, because he'd been there too. "So was I. I went to see-" 

"Marat Safin."

"Marat Safin."

They spoke in unison, Stefanos's face surely splitting with a big grin. 

"He's my favourite tennis player." 

"Mine too. Too bad he lost that tournament, though." Sascha lamented the loss a bit, sighing as he remembered how disappointed he was. 

"Yeah, I know my dad was pissed because he lost so early," Stefanos recalled as he tipped the soup into the bowl, sticking it into the microwave and setting the time. "I got to meet him though and he's a really nice guy even if he's kind of scary." 

"So, that isn't just me, then?" Sascha laughed as he took a swig of his hot chocolate. Naturally, it was delicious. 

Stefanos had a laugh as well, taking the warmed soup from the microwave and getting a spoon from the drawer. 

"I'm watching some movies if you want to watch with me." Sascha offered out of nowhere, even though he didn't actually mean to. He just said what first came to his head. 

Even the Greek seemed a bit surprised at the offer, but nodded his head as he took in a spoonful of borscht. They walked to the living room as a pair and took a seat on opposite ends. 

Sascha wasn't entirely sure if them sitting so far away was intentional or not, or if Stefanos was just being courteous about not infecting him with the flu. 

Whatever movie he thought was going to play didn't play, it turned onto some reality show neither of them cared about. Sascha waited for a moment, before picking up the remote and turning it on the Hallmark channel. 

The joke had been made earlier about those very films, but Sascha had always secretly liked them. 

Stefanos made no effort to cover up how much he loved cheesy, romantic holiday movies, as he let out a small hum of content. 

It was the typical Hallmark setting. 

A businesswoman that had no time for a relationship, a perfect bachelor that she meets by chance. They fall in love, have their first kiss interrupted and at the end, they finally confess to each other and kiss. A happy ending for all. 

Shocking that such a simple formula could be so foolproof and managed to produce good movies each and every time. 

Making a film for Hallmark was as easy as Sascha hitting a tennis ball. 

As the credits rolled, Sascha noticed how quiet it was. He turned his head to where Stefanos was and found him wrapped in a throw blanket, having dozed off somewhere towards the end. 

The sight was a bit endearing, especially with how youthful his face was.

Well, if he would shave that ridiculous facial hair. If he did that, however, he would've probably ended up looking like a sixteen year old boy. 

With all this thinking, he decided that it'd just be best to go to bed. Sascha shifted closer to Stefanos, putting a hand on his shoulder to shake him. 

He paused for a second. 

Sascha blinked a few times before smelling the air close to him once again, more specifically, his hair. 

It smelled like sea salt. 

As if he needed to be even more stereotypical, he smelled as if he'd just gone for a swim in the warm Mediterranean ocean. 

Sascha shut his own head up, shaking the other until he woke up. 

"Get up, man, we're going to bed." He advised him a bit more firmly than he intended, shaking him a bit more.

"Fine, fine..." Stefanos groggily mumbled, rubbing his eyes as he moved the throw off and left it on the couch. 

Sascha stood up first and turned the tv off, then the other lights as he waited for the other to get up. Then, they walked up the stairs and to the right hallway. Stefanos paused halfway to his room with a little frown on his face. The German looked over his shoulder, a hand already resting on his doorknob when he saw. 

"You okay?" Sascha quietly asked with a tilt of the head. 

"I..." Stefanos faltered a bit in his words, swallowing as if he were nervous. "Could I sleep in there? The guestroom is...is really warm." 

Honestly, he was actually right. The guest room had a broken radiator that rarely turned off, turning that room into a kiln. They never fixed it because they rarely had guests over. 

Sascha thought about it for a second, considering the passing thoughts he'd been having throughout that afternoon. 

"Sure." 

Sascha wanted to hit his forehead off the wall.

He didn't mean to say that at all, he was supposed to tell him to take the couch. 

Stefanos looked relieved, so Sascha just didn't have the heart to correct himself. So, he pushed the door open and let him enter first. 

Now he was thanking God for his king-sized bed. They got in on opposite sides, Stefanos taking the throw from the end of the bed since he was still not feeling great. 

Sascha, on the other hand, was paranoid that he was going to get sick from being around him for so long. A piece of him didn't care so much, it wasn't torture to be hanging out him. 

They certainly got off on the wrong footing when they first met, which was exasperated when he refused to call him by his first name. 'Tsitsipas' was not a cute pet name, and all it did was piss the Greek off royally. He liked to make fun of him by only speaking German at a time, so Stefanos would only speak Greek back. 

It annoyed both of them, but they by no means hated each other. Sascha certainly didn't hate Stefanos, but he knew that Stefanos didn't like him for a long time. 

Those thoughts helped him fall asleep, preoccupying himself with something that distracted him from actually trying to fall asleep. 

"Goodnight." Were the parting words from reality, but they welcomed him into dreamland. 

Stefanos, on the other hand, wasn't having an easy time falling asleep. He was anxious but sleepy, and those two don't exactly go together very well.

He felt like he was freezing, and the blanket layered under the duvet wasn't helping much either. Yet, he was sweating and knew fully that his fever hadn't gone away entirely. Stefanos hadn't stayed at a new place, in a new bed, ever since he moved to Germany.

Even when he moved, he was a nervous wreck just to be in there, let alone sleep in there. Change terrified him to the point of panic attacks. That's what the Prozac was for. 

Stefanos was shaking, both from anxiousness and from how cold he was. 

Tugging the blankets up didn't help, and he didn't really know what else to do. 

Until he caught the noise of light breathing not but a foot and a half away. So, he shifted onto his side and sat up a bit to see how much space was left beside Sascha. 

Luckily for the Greek, he slept in the centre of the bed. 

Stefanos pulled the duvet back a bit and quietly slipped out of bed, making extra sure to walk with gentle steps so as to keep the wood panels from creaking. Once he'd walked to the other side of the bed, he wrapped the throw blanket around his torso and got into the other side. Then, he simply snuggled up to his very own human hot water bottle. Hot being used in two different meanings, of course. 

He got as close as he could, with his head finding a spot against Sascha's chest as his legs naturally curled up like a sleeping cat. 

Suddenly, Stefanos didn't feel so anxious. He felt far more secure than he ever did at his apartment. So much so, that he ended up falling asleep within ten minutes. 

__ 

Sometime during the night, Sascha briefly woke up as he normally did. He reached over to grab his phone off of the nightstand. 

2:38 in the morning. It was officially Christmas Eve. 

Sascha put his phone back and glanced down at the slight pressure against his chest. Stefanos was there, sound asleep, but still shivering. 

Without being rough or quick, so as not to wake him, he gently pulled him a bit closer and tugged the duvet up. A small smile even found it's way on his face as he buried his nose into his severely outgrown hair. 

Perhaps he could learn to like the smell of sea salt. 

__ 

When Sascha opened his eyes again, the room was much brighter than before. The sun shone through his curtains and it nearly blinded him, a section of the window that wasn't covered letting in sunlight directly into his eyes. 

He was about to get up, until he felt as if he couldn't. 

Sascha looked down and saw that Stefanos was still asleep, with his arm draped around his waist and face hidden in his chest. He didn't know if he should get up or not, since it would most likely wake him up. 

With a small click of the tongue, he shifted ever so slightly away from him to get a look at Stefanos's face. 

It didn't disappoint. Even though he'd grown paler over the weeks, he still had the most beautiful, tan skin tone. His eyelashes were almost obnoxiously long, they gave his eyes a doe appearance, even when they were closed. 

What seemed like only a few seconds lasted far longer than he realised. Stefanos's eyes had opened and he was looking up at him with a small, soft smile on his face. 

"See anything interesting?" He asked quietly, reaching a hand up to rub his eyes. 

Sascha had to smile as well. 

"Just you." 

Stefanos laughed at that, a blush appearing on his face. "You watched too many Hallmark movies." 

"Maybe," Sascha shrugged as he slowly sat up, motioning for Stefanos to do the same. "But you did admit that you liked them too." 

The Greek simply responded with a raise of the eyebrows, sitting up with a long stretch. Sascha reached across him to grab his phone, looking at the clock and his notifications from social media. 

Stefanos, on the other hand, was getting out of bed and running his fingers through his hair, trying to brush out any knots. When he was finished doing that, he walked out of the room without another word. 

Sascha didn't notice until he looked up from his phone, having to glance around the room just in case. He put his phone back on the nightstand and got out of bed, walking out of the room and downstairs. 

His mother was making breakfast and talking to Stefanos, since no one else was down there. 

"Hey mum," Sascha greeted her as he sat at the table, looking over at her. "Where are Mischa and dad?"

"Oh, they went out to breakfast with Heike and Tom," Irina informed him, looking up from her bowl of milk & egg mixture. "You never told me Stefanos here was so clever!"

Sascha blinked in confusion, because he didn't even know that. He turned and looked over his shoulder. 

"Uh," He slowly nodded, letting out a brief, fake cough. "Yeah, he's pretty clever I guess." 

That stupid smile on Stefanos's face made him roll his eyes, turning back around to stare at the fruit bowl in the centre of the table. It was becoming a very weird push and pull between them, but only really with himself. 

Sascha, on one hand, wanted to be nice and affectionate, but on the other hand, he didn't like acting that way. It made him feel stupid and, in a sense, trapped.

His mother and the guest continued their conversation about some philosopher that he couldn't care less about. 

"Well, as Aristotle would say," Stefanos began, raising the volume of his voice as if he wanted Sascha to hear, "Happiness is the meaning and the purpose of life the whole aim and end of human existence." 

"I love that quote!" Irina smiled happily as she took a few slices of white bread and placed them into the mixture. 

Unintentionally, Sascha scoffed, getting up from the table and walking into the living room. He dropped himself on the couch and turned on the tv, the first thing on the screen being a mistletoe scene from some Christmas film. 

_Of course_ , she fucking kisses him. He was getting so frustrated that he nearly threw the remote directly at the screen, but he stopped himself and just tossed it to the other side of the couch.

He didn't understand why it was hitting him so suddenly when they were perfectly alright the night before, even when they first woke up. 

There was no way Sascha was _into_ him like _that--_ Surely he had better taste than that.

Right?

'He's never even said my n-' 

His thoughts were interrupted quite rudely by the voice of his mother. 

"Breakfast is ready, dear!" 

Sascha wanted to throw up, not eat. Despite that, he pulled himself from the comfort of the couch and made the walk to the dining room. The spread was very lovely, consisting of eggs, french toast, brioche, maple syrup, jam, butter and berries. 

Irina was always one to go above and beyond during any mealtime because she loved to cook. Stefanos didn't come out, rather he was still in the kitchen, making a cup of tea. 

Taking two pieces of the french toast, Sascha cut a small pat of butter, took a few berries and drizzled some of the maple syrup over it. 

French toast was one of his favourite breakfast foods next to pancakes, and Irina loved to make it. Especially when she invited her friends to the house, where they'd spike the egg mixture with Irish cream or whiskey. 

Stefanos finally came in, taking a seat directly beside Sascha with the cup of tea being placed on the table with a tiny thud. 

The sound of reckoning, no doubt. 

He found himself slumping in his chair a bit, almost hiding behind his heavy head of blonde hair. Still, he had absolutely no idea what was going on with him. 

"Did you sleep alright, Stefanos?" Irina asked as she got herself a piece of french toast and some eggs, looking over at him. He smiled at her as he nodded.

"I did, far better than I ever do at my flat." Stefanos answered, taking a sip of his tea and getting a brioche, raspberry jam and some eggs. Somehow, even that was pissing Sascha off. 

He didn't like him. 

Sascha doesn't like him.

He will never like him.

In the back of his head, he was feuding back and forth with his own voice.

'If you don't like him so much, then why can't you stop thinking about him? Why are they only positive thoughts?'

_Well, if it were negative, I wouldn't be having this big of a problem. All the positive thoughts are covering up the bad ones._

'But you aren't focusing on the positive ones. You're trying to make negative ones.'

Sascha had his hand over his eyes, shaking his head as the argument encased within his own head didn't cease. 

_It doesn't matter, I'm never going to do anything to find out if I do happen to like him like **that**._

'Because you know that if you kiss him, you're only going to want more.'

"Just shut up, Jesus Christ..." Sascha hissed under his breath, the conversation getting to be so loud that it just was far too much. 

"Huh?" Stefanos looked over at him, a bit confused as no one had been talking. 

Sascha frowned as he somehow managed to slouch even more, hastily putting a cut piece of toast in his mouth. The Greek just shrugged it off and went back to his breakfast. 

All Sascha wanted at that particular moment was a hole to crawl into and hopefully die. 

The weird feeling had been there always when he went to F & W's, but now it felt like it was strangling him. 

He stayed out of the conversation, staring at his food as he ate it. 

__

The only solution for the rest of that Christmas Eve morning and afternoon was avoidance. Sascha got dressed and left to walk Lövik.

He caught Stefanos on the way out, since he was sitting on one of the rocking chairs on the porch and smoking. 

Sascha hated cigarettes, but the way Stefanos smoked them looked so effortlessly sexy. 

_'Dear Santa, please bring me a switch for Christmas so I can shut my brain off.'_

Lövik walked over to the Greek, causing a smile to form on his face as he blew out a cloud of smoke. He leaned over and pet his dark, curly fur, letting him paw at his leg. 

Stefanos looked up from the dog and moved his eyes to Sascha, gesturing down to Lövik. "Do you mind?" 

Sascha just gave him a slight nod. 

So, Stefanos picked Lövik up and set him down in his lap, letting him curl up. Sascha stood for a moment, not knowing what to do. 

He decided to take a seat in one of the rocking chairs as well, staring out at the snow-covered yard. It was incredibly cold outside, enough to make his nose red and runny. Stefanos continued with what he was doing before, just with a dog now asleep in his lap. 

It remained silent after that, although the smell of cigarette smoke was starting to annoy Sascha. 

"Aren't you sick?" He asked a bit harshly, but he actually meant it to be harsher. 

"I am," Stefanos cooly replied, taking an intentionally long drag before letting it go into the air. "But last time I checked, nicotine doesn't really care if you're sick." 

Sascha huffed out of irritation, folding his arms over his chest as he leaned back. In his peripheral vision, he could see Stefanos silently laughing to himself. 

_'That kid is so lucky that I'm a reasonable person, or I would've punched a wall by now.'_

"So," Stefanos turned slightly to be facing more in Sascha's direction, "how are you?" 

Blank. 

Sascha just stared straight ahead, wishing he were anywhere but there. It was just him being civil, and that being the case, why was it driving him so insane?

"God, Stefanos," Sascha blurted out, abruptly standing up. "I've got no fucking idea." 

The other pulled back a bit, an eyebrow raised and a look of confusion written across his irritatingly perfect features. 

**Why did it have to be Stefanos Tsitsipas.**

Sascha didn't give him the chance to respond, immediately storming off of the porch and out into the snowy street; walking in the direction of the park. 

Anywhere without Stefanos was the place Sascha had to go to. 

__ 

Once he made it to the park, he sat on the bench and just focused on his breathing for a few minutes. A bit of peace finally overcame the nagging voices in his head, being able to close his eyes without the incessant internal monologue. 

_'Sascha, you know there's nothing wrong with liking him, right?'_

"That isn't the point," He responded out loud, knowing fully that no one would be there to hear him. "I don't like him." 

_'At all?'_

"I didn't say that."

_'But it's what you meant. Be honest with yourself for once.'_

"I am being honest with myself-" 

_'No, listen to me. Be really, truly honest with yourself. You fancied him when you first saw him at the register, and when you got the chance to-'_

"I'm just being a good friend."

_'You aren't friends with him. You never were.'_

"Well, we are now."

_'Yeah, note the word 'now', you weren't friends before this. Are we going to deny those dreams you've been having?'_

"Oh god, don't-"

_'They mean something, Sascha. They're not just there for no reason. If you don't want to admit it, at least go and try to give it a shot. Just ask to kiss him if you haven't completely blown that chance.'_

"What if he says no; completely rejects me?"

_'Then it wasn't meant to be, but you'll never know if you don't try.'_

Sascha groaned, leaning over with his face resting in his hands. He knew that he was denying himself, that it was partially to blame for such a strange shift. The thought of being rejected, however, was scaring him the most.

He wasn't satisfied with the 'it wasn't meant to be' answer, because it gave him no substance. It didn't help. If it wasn't meant to be, then it wouldn't have happened in the first place.

That answer just wasn't good enough.

_Life is just so unfair sometimes._

__ 

The walk back home was purposefully longer, Sascha focusing on the sound of snow crunching under his boots. He loved winter, the snow, Christmas, but he missed Florida. He liked America, the way of life over the pond and honestly expected to date an American. 

Everything about the situation was incredibly bizarre, especially for him. 

Sascha looked up from the ground and at the house. The car wasn't outside, meaning his parents and Mischa were, very likely, not there. 

His luck was truly nonexistent at that point. 

As he walked up the stairs of the porch, Sascha looked over at where Stefanos had been sitting earlier. At least ten cigarettes were in the ashtray, which had been left after Mischa quit smoking. He cringed just at the thought of smoking so many in one sitting-- or even thinking about smoking them at all. 

It both surprised and didn't surprise him that Stefanos smoked, especially how excessively he did. On the one trip to Greece he'd made, Sascha was the only one out of twenty people in a pub that wasn't smoking. 

The only part of him that was surprised he did, was because he knew he didn't smoke when he'd first met him. Scents like cigarettes are obvious, so it wasn't a coincidence that it just gradually appeared over time. 

Germany just did not look good on Stefanos, he didn't belong there. 

He was probably more of the French Riviera type. 

Sascha finally reached the door, opening it and stepping inside. The warm air caused a sigh of relief to fall past his lips, shrugging off his coat and hanging it on a hook by the door. He pulled his gloves off and tossed them on the entryway table, walking to the living room to find Stefanos napping on the couch.

For someone who slept so much, Sascha questioned how he ever got anything done. 

He leaned over, placing a hand on his shoulder. Without even noticing, he tensed up slightly as he shook him. 

"Stefanos," He whispered, leaning over from behind the couch as he did so, "Wake up." 

Stefanos didn't initially wake up, but when he did, he only opened one eye. When he saw it was Sascha, he closed it again and turned on his side; facing away from him. 

Sascha was, obviously, a little confused by that. He reached his hand to shake his shoulder once again.

"Could you stop," Stefanos grumbled, stubbornly keeping his eyes closed. 

"What's your issue?" Sascha asked as he raised an eyebrow. "You were fine earlier."

"I don't really think I owe you an explanation, honestly," Stefanos put it bluntly, still refusing to face him once again. "Just let me be for ten minutes." 

He didn't really want to delay anymore, but seeing as he would probably be unable to get the other to budge, he decided to do as he was told. So, he walked away and went upstairs. 

If Stefanos wanted to be stubborn, then Sascha could be petty. He looked at the clock and waited approximately ten minutes. Not one second earlier or later. 

When he didn't hear any noise downstairs, he got back up and walked down the stairs. 

Sure enough, Stefanos was still on the couch, asleep. 

Sascha stood behind the couch for a moment, before reaching down and firmly grabbing Stefanos's shoulder; **roughly** shaking it. 

He almost immediately woke up and slapped his hand away.

"What the fuck-" Stefanos initially spoke in Greek, before following up in English with the translation, "What the fuck?" 

"You said ten minutes," Sascha recalled quite bluntly, nodding for a moment. "So I gave you ten minutes." 

Stefanos grumbled something in Greek, but slowly sat up and stretched a bit. "Fine, fine, what do you want then?"

Sascha thought of the million ways he could put the question, but all of them were basically the same. It was risky, riskier than he wanted to admit. 

"I want you to kiss me," He just went out with it, looking at Stefanos with full knowledge of what he was asking, "And I want it to be terrible." 

Stefanos looked completely shocked, eyes wide and expression somewhat blank. 

"I-" He briefly spoke, having to blink a few time. "Are- are you serious?"

"I'm not joking." Sascha genuinely spoke, trying to give his conscience's idea a chance. 

"No, I- I can't do that." 

Stefanos immediately shook his head, waving his hand as he turned away, now looking ahead. So, Sascha walked around from behind the couch to the front, facing him once again. 

"Do you fancy me, at all?" Sascha honestly asked, leaning down a bit to be closer to his sitting height. The other visibly hesitated, tightly pursing his lips as he looked down. 

"I don't- I don't know," Stefanos stammered as he pressed his forehead into the palm of his hand. "I would rather just not think about it." 

"We have to think about it, Stef," Sascha took himself down to a crouch, nudging his knee with his elbow, "If we don't now, then when will we?" 

Stefanos didn't respond this time, hands visibly shaking as his leg did the same. Then, another thought came to the German. Another question, but an important one.

"Stef, why," Sascha almost hesitated himself, but he ran his tongue over his slightly chapped lips before continuing, "Why haven't you said my name?" 

Silence befell the room for a moment. 

Stefanos pulled his face out of hiding, swallowing back the lump in his throat as he looked at Sascha; something of a slight smile on his lips. 

"If I don't say your name, then it isn't real. That way, your face won't have a name to haunt me." 

Sascha took a handful of seconds to process that because of how genuine it was. They both felt the same, but they had two different ways of expressing it. 

Stefanos looked upset, but there weren't any tears that he could see this time. 

When Sascha fully digested it, he looked back at Stefanos with a small smile of his own.

"Then you don't have to say it yet, but it doesn't mean you can't kiss me." Sascha quite boldly stated, but it paid off. Even Stefanos let out a laugh at it, a bit of redness in his cheeks as the formerly empty smile turned happy. 

"We need mistletoe first." 

Sascha clicked his tongue as he took Stefanos's hand, standing and pulling him up as well. He knew precisely where some mistletoe was. 

They walked out onto the porch, closing the door behind them as Sascha point up. There, indeed, was a bit of mistletoe hanging from the ceiling. Stefanos didn't hesitate then, practically pulling Sascha into a kiss far sweeter than he could've dreamed. They both couldn't stop smiling into it either, Stefanos pulling away to laugh a bit. 

It had to be one of the few moments, if not the first time, he'd seen such a genuine grin. 

"I really hope you're not contagious," Sascha foreshadowed somewhat, chuckling at the very thought. 

"Luckily for you," Stefanos quickly interjected, soothing his worries, "The flu is only contagious after four to five days." 

Sascha hummed in response with a roll of the eyes, giving him another brief kiss before Stefanos's phone rang. He pulled away once again as he reached into his pocket, looking at the name before answering. The conversation was in Greek, Stefanos occasionally glancing at Sascha as he spoke. 

It wasn't long, only around five minutes, before Stefanos hung up and folded his arms over his chest.

"You actually rebought those gifts," He started with the same smile still on his face, "And managed to get them to my family without telling me?"

"I'm really good at keeping secrets," Sascha laughed, shrugging his shoulders, "Not to mention, I did promise to try and help you."

Stefanos took a step forward and knocked his forehead against Sascha's lightly, closing his eyes. "Well, you did a great job." 

Sascha let his hand tangle in the untamed curly lock, ruffling his hair a bit as they stood together. A soft sigh of relief escaped as he briefly pulled away to kiss his forehead. 

They let the silence settle around them, the snow coming down in sheets now as the German looked over his shoulder. 

"We should get inside," He gestured towards the door. "Y'know, where it's warm." 

Stefanos nodded in agreement, and they both walked back inside; beelining to the couch where they immediately sat beside each other. They snuggled up, Sascha putting an arm around the Greek as he rested his head on his chest. Another one of those cheesy Hallmark movies came on the tv, and they both decided to watch it. 

They were basically living one of those films at this point. 

"Oh, Sascha Zverev," Stefanos whispered with a smile, only loud enough for him and the other to hear, "Who would've ever guessed?"

**Author's Note:**

> have a lovely day/afternoon/evening and thank you for reading!


End file.
